


Khaver // Kaibigan

by heereandqueer



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: No Timeline, enjoy this fluff and friendship fic!, i skip around a lot and none of these are in order, i'll keep adding to this as i write more for it, this is just a collection of one shots/drabbles of the boys being best friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-04 01:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heereandqueer/pseuds/heereandqueer
Summary: The one where they don't get together, they're just best friends.(the title is "friend // friend" in both hebrew and tagalog. technically (this is just for the hebrew one bc i dont speak tagalog) khaver is a best friend but more)





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted a place that I could collect all of my thoughts on the boys being best friends, and little peeks into that world of theirs. I hope you enjoy it!! sorry no romance, go read the other 5000 stories if you want that! also no pining. if you're looking for it it's not here. this is a completely platonic story.

The familiar scent of packaged pastry cakes and cigarettes burned his nose a bit when you walked through the heavy, squeaky,and, though he hated to admit it, slightly sticky glass door. Sometimes he stopped to read some of the hundreds of window stickers and ads always covering it; after so many years they never seemed to change much, aside from some yellowing and peeling  at the edges. The signs in the windows were always newer, though. There’s Currently some deal on beer, some new Fanta poster, and Camel and Marlboro advertisements.

Today wasn’t one of the days that Michael stopped to read stare intently at the door and scare the poor person working-- he and Jeremy were on a mission.

(Mission was a strong word, it was more of a “it’s 3 am, we’re here in our pajamas, we have $30 in my pocket to spend, and I want snacks” kind of thing.)

Michael’s flip flops slapped against the equally as sticky floor as he followed a rosy cheeked Jeremy down the fourth aisle down. They had blasted the heater on the short 10 minute drive down, and the cold air pinched Jeremy’s cheeks to a perfect light pink when he got out of the car..

Jeremy ran his fingers over the haphazardly placed price tags on the shelves, as if he was actually paying attention to them or the contents of the shelf. They had gotten the same things since they started coming here as kids. It didn’t matter that their tastes had changed over the many years, the stuff they bought at this specific store was always the same.

His fingers stopped when they poked at the familiar white and pink packaging of the frosted animal crackers he always got. (He had noticed the bottoms of Jeremy’s fingernails were slightly blue, skin around some of them picked at and raw. He wondered if that math test last week was really getting to him that much, and decided he’d ask tomorrow if he remembered to.) Jeremy tossed it over his shoulder, Michael expertly catching it like he had done for 10 years now.

With that, he moved his way down the aisle further, grabbing the rest of their food: cookie dough Pop Tarts, BBQ chips, sour gummy worms, and Chex Mix. (The last two items on their mental shopping list were for Michael’s moms. If they knew Michael and Jeremy went to the store without buying them anything, they’d be bummed.) Each of these items went straight from the shelf to Michael’s arms.

Michael found himself humming along to that one  _ Shut Up and Dance _ song from a couple years that was playing a little too loudly for the early hours as he took it upon himself to go grab them each a drink in his one free hand left. When he made it to the fogged up coolers, he felt the familiar presence of his friend beside him, some of the packaged goods being lifted from his arm along with a hand being shoved into one of the front pockets of one of his mom's old college hoodies he had taken on the way out of the door. Out Jere took both the keys and his wallet, shoving the wallet between his teeth as he helped Michael hold their stuff.

Both boys hadn’t even had the time to rub sleep out of their eyes before they decided to head out, so they needed the caffeine from the Red Bull Michael held in one hand (which Jeremy had always gawked at, never being able to hold more than one in his hand at once without risking dropping them. It was one of those random small things that ultimately didn't affect his life at all, but it still annoyed him that he couldn’t.)

They took their time heading back to the register, the speakers in the ceiling being way more crackly over there. It had always been like that, the boys had conversations about how annoying it must be to work under that all day. Walking up to the weirdly stained, really tall counter, Michael took the second that it took the tired young man to head over to them to use the mirror behind the counter to fix his total bed head. Not that it mattered. 

A soft joke shared between the two teens about Jeremy having held Michael’s old wallet between his teeth the walk across the small store, as he took out the correct amount of cash (he took his mom's advice and used the correct change that he happened to have this one time), and had it ready in his hand. They did this so often he knew how much it was gonna be. Most of the cashiers now don’t even bother to read them their total, some don’t even bother to scan the items. They just bag them and move on, these boys were almost a little  _ too  _ known at this stop and shop. 

Michael paid, slipping his fingers through the bag and turned to see Jeremy already heading out to get back in the car. Without turning around he pointed his hand out a bit to a dumb beer koozie on the novelty item rack. It had the slogan “I can’t adult today”, and Michael knows they’ll be laughing about that later.

Jeremy spun Michael’s keychain around his finger, bouncing on his heels while he waited for Michael to make his way over to the car. Once safely in catching distance, Jere tossed him the keys and impatiently tugged at the door handle a couple of times.

(Jeremy easily could have walked around and unlocked the car himself, or not taken the keys in the first place. But he liked something to fidget with, especially when he’s not a hundred percent awake.)

The very second the door was unlocked, Jere was situating himself into his seat. Michael is starting the car, setting their bag down by Jeremy’s feet (earning a small yelp from the boy because “Jeez those drinks are cold” “Then put them in the back, you baby” “You’re a dick, you know?”.)

The boys didn’t have a plan for the rest of the night, but they didn’t let that bother them as they played whatever old rock station Michael had on as they drove back to the house.


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh, shitty english teachers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was fun to write once i got in the groove of it

“I don’t know man, I think Mr. Cruse is out to get you.” Michael said, through a mouthful of the sandwich he had.

A groan as Jeremy’s head thumped down onto the cafeteria table in front of him, “I know. It doesn’t matter how hard I try! He’s gonna flunk me!”

Michael had half meant it as a joke, but yeah. The old balding English teacher had yet to give Jeremy a grade above a C+ since September on any of his writing. No matter how many late nights Jeremy stayed up writing and rewriting his essays, it never seemed to be enough for the guy.

On the other hand, Michael was passing the class with flying colors. He even helped Jeremy write a couple of those essays, but nothing was working.

So they had come to the conclusion that Mr. Cruse did in fact hate Jeremiah Heere for some unknown reason.

“Maybe he hates me because I’m Jewish,” Jeremy said, sticking a second straw into Michael’s orange juice carton (Without asking first, but whatever.) and looking at him to see if maybe he agreed with his insane statement.

“Nope, can’t pull the anti-semitic card here Jere. Brooke passed his class last year no problem. And you owe me 50 cents for the juice,” A shake of the head as he shoved it over to Jeremy to keep. He didn’t really want it anyway (hated the pulp and really only got it cause it was all that was left when the two got to the line) but wanted to tease the kid any chance he got.

The loud shriek of the old bell on the wall had them both sliding off of their benches, collecting their things as they did. 

Jeremy waited for Michael to throw his trash away, sucking down some more juice as he tried to think of another excuse for his barely passing grade in his favorite subject. “Maybe he- ugh. Maybe I should just stop showing up.”

“Now, what’s that gonna help Jeremy?” Michael shoved his arm a bit to push him through the double doors he was just standing in as students filed out. Jeremy had gym now, which explained his lack of rush to get out of there, and why he was slowly following Michael in the opposite direction to the other boys art class.

Once Jeremy seemed to realize this conversation wasn’t going the way he wanted, and his class was gonna start, his bid his friend goodbye and went sprinting back down the hallway (nearly running into a couple people as he did so).

 

\---

 

Somewhere between that dreadful conversation and the end of the quarter, Jeremy had managed to bring all of his friends around to helping him study for tests and edit papers before he turned them in. It honestly looked like the kid wasn’t sleeping anymore, and his brain was working completely powered by spite to prove this teacher wrong and pass the class. 

It had gotten the group so worked up that they all now stood outside of his classroom, the bell had rang close to fifteen minutes ago and students were filling out in big groups and the loud hallway was almost quiet by now. It was the last day of school before their winter breaks, so it was no wonder everyone was getting out of there as fast as possible, it was a miracle people even showed up that day. Jeremy had stayed behind to collect his work from this quarter and to get his grade back on his final essay.

Michael stood leaning back against some lockers, across from the door but not where he could see through the small window of the brown door. Rich was beside him but sitting on the floor, he had moved from slipping random papers and small objects into random lockers through the vents, to pulling and Michael’s shoelaces, to doodling on the knee of his jeans. Everyone else was scattered around either on their phones or chatting quietly. 

Finally the heavy door opened slowly, and as if they were living in a dramatic movie scene Jeremy slipped out and raised his small stack of papers above his head. In bright blue ink there was the unmistakable ‘ _ 97% _ ’ and a huge A with a circle around it, covering the top right corner of his essay. Holy shit he passed.

The group of teens broke into a cheer, Jake patting (smacking) him on the back of the shoulder, Brooke and Christine shaking him excitedly, and Jenna grabbing the papers out of his arms to skim them. They were shushed by some teacher peeking out of her room, the door closing a bit too hard behind her but they didn’t quiet down much. It was winter break, what did she expect?

“Jeremy!! Oh my god that’s amazing! What’d he say about your final grade?” Christine was grinning from ear to ear, practically hanging on his arm as she spoke. The flats she was wearing that day didn’t give her any height advantage, but that didn’t bother her because she’d pull Jeremy down to her height if she needed to.

Jeremy kinda took a second to realize who had his paper now, noticing it had been passed to Chloe. “Well he said he couldn’t give me the exact number yet, that report cards will be mailed out next week-”

“We all know this, out with it Heere!” Brooke cut him off, stealing the top paper from Chloe as she moved on to reading the next one. There wasn’t any ounce of anger in her voice, not that there ever could be.

“If you would let me finish my thought, I would tell you I’m looking at a B+ for this semester.” Michael had seen Jeremy this happy only a handful of times in his life up to this point. One of them was after his bar mitzvah when the two of them hid under a table as people cleared out, passing a plate of cake back and forth. Another was when Michael came home from his summer long trip to the Philippines when they were 15. Up to this point, the last time Michael had seen Jeremy smile so wide his dimples were visible was when Christine agreed to go on a date with him last year. This smile almost out ranked them all.

Once they had gotten their yelling out of their system and had disturbed the French teacher enough she came out to yell at them again, they were all scrambling to the front of the school with their piles of papers, books, and backpacks. 

“I think this calls for a celebration!” Rich yelled out, following Jenna to her car as the group split up in their separate ways to the cars they usually rode to and from school. They had their system sorted out pretty well by now, switching occasionally for the hell of it though.

The only way they all could agree to kick off their winter break and celebrate Jeremy passing English was all eight of these kids (who were nearly adults) horribly skating around the ice rink in their local mall, followed by a movie marathon at Jake’s house with takeout chinese and Chloe teaching Jeremy and Brooke how to play poker way into the early hours of the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finger guns -> @connormurphweed


	3. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jeremy breaks shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive hinted at this in a many of fics, and i finally actually wrote it!

It was dumb that he had been crying this much, but honestly it wasn’t Jeremy’s fault. When you’re a  _ 16 _ year old kid, about to go into their Junior year of high school how else are you allowed to react to your mother packing her shit and leaving on the first bus out of town?

It’s not like they weren’t expecting it. His parents had been fighting constantly, and the words “divorce” and “custody” and “legal papers” had been thrown around like crazy these last few months until he guesses she just had enough. He got home one day from school, got a simple kiss on the forehead and a “Be good, I’ll see you soon. And I’ll call you every day, I promise”, with that she was out the door and never walked back through it.

She only kept the promise to call every day for a month. One month. Thirty days, that’s as long as she could last making time in her daily life for her son. But it was fine, the phone calls were short and painful when she did remember to dial his number. Asked about school (“I haven’t started school yet Mom, not for another month.”), asked about Michael (“He’s the same, always is.”), about anything she could think of for small talk. She never once asked about his father though, but that was to be expected.

He didn’t cry then, he hadn’t cried about her leaving. Not once. Not because he didn’t think he could, or that it wasn’t manly to cry or any dumb shit. He simply didn’t feel the need to cry, he didn’t feel sad. Angry, sure, but not sad. Now, with two weeks left until he’s officially a Junior, his mom god knows where and his dad going through a depression, Jeremy finally hit a wall. All the tears he hadn’t felt before were now crashing down on him in waves. He was pissed off, and he needed something to do about it. He needed someone to talk to. 

Of course the person he called was Michael, for one he had no one else to call and for two Michael was his best friend and was the only other person besides his parents and himself who knew the full story. He had seen the sudden flip in his mom over the last couple of years, Michael understood what Jeremy was going through and had always said if he needed to vent about it to come to him. That’s just what Jeremy was doing now.

He had managed to swallow the lump in his throat enough to keep his voice steady when Michael picked up. “Hey uh… does that offer to let off some steam still stand?”

When his mom had first left, Michael had given him a million different offers of ways to let his anger out. Most of them were their usual way of hanging out through, video games, getting stoned, the likes. One thing he had mentioned was taking a box of breakable junk he had in his garage, driving out to a random spot off the city limits, and breaking everything he could. Without another word Michael knew that’s just what Jeremy  wanted needed to do.

“I’ll be by in  _ 10 _ to pick you up?” Michael heard a small ‘mhm’ on the other end, and the click of the phone call ending, wasting no more time as he shoved his sneakers onto his feet.

Michael was a new driver, but his moms were pretty trusting of him around, so they didn’t give him a second glance as he bounded down the steps and slipped his keys off of the hook by the door. 

“I’m going to do that thing with Jeremy, I’m taking the busted china and that old junk from the garage!” He barely finished as the heavy wooden front door closed, and he went hopping down the porch steps and around to the garage. It took him a few trips but he got the three boxed into the car, and was off to Jeremy’s place.

He didn’t live too far, and he knew Jeremy was expecting him so he wasn’t surprised to see him sitting on the driveway when he pulled up beside the mailbox. He honked a bit to get Jeremy’s attention from his phone, stifling a laugh when he jumped and flipped Michael off. That’s fair, he deserved that.

“Hey, lets go. I wanna get out of here,” Jeremy set his phone in the cup holder between them, rubbing his hands down the front of his legs before he buckled his seatbelt, knowing Michael wouldn’t drive away from the house until he had it secure. 

He also knew that Michael could very clearly see the dried tear streaks and the redness of his eyes, but he thanked Moses that he didn’t bring it up. Instead Michael just clicked his tongue quietly, and drove off. They lived in a small town, and if it weren’t for the heavy boxes the boys could have walked to the city limit in  _ 15 _ minutes, and luckily they were there soon. 

As soon as they did pull up, Jeremy was out. Michael had barely put the car into park when Jeremy was hoping out, closing the door a little harder than necessary but Michael didn’t say anything. He simply jumped out of his own side, helping him lug the boxes out of the backseat and onto the dusty ground. 

This place used to be an old gas station or something, but everything had been torn down many years before Jeremy and Michael were even ideas in the world. They kept the huge slab of concrete though, and for things like today it was gonna come in handy.

Jeremy was suddenly almost hesitant, his hands shaking slightly as he slid an already chipped plate out of the cardboard box. It was that reflex in him that told him breaking things wasn’t a good idea, but that part of him needed to shut up for a little while. He needed to do this, he needed to let off some steam.

So he drew his arm back, tossing the plate onto the ground with a loud smash. It took him a second to realize it had actually shattered, a small smiled taking over as Michael cheered a bit and handed him a cracked mug. That felt incredible. Michael was right, this was gonna help him a little.

The same part of his mind that had told him not to break anything seconds before was quiet as he used the mug to see just how far he could throw. It went a fair distance, and he mentally patted himself on the back for actually learning something in those years of being forced into baseball at his local Jewish Center. He knew it was gonna be a bitch to clean up, but he didn’t let that bother him as he started taking his anger out on the floral patterned dishes that had sat in the Mell household for as long as he could remember.

Michael himself didn’t throw or break anything, but instead stood aside and encouraged his best friend, occasionally handing him something to break next. Crash after shatter after bang. One by one he broke dozens of fragile objects, but the high didn’t last as long as he had hoped that it would. Eventually his laughter faded to sobs, and he let one of the bowls with a weird fish design painted on the side slip from his fingers. 

Michael noticed the change instantly, pushing up from his sitting position by the now nearly empty boxes, and pulled his shorter friend into his arms. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to shush his cries, just held him close. Jeremy needed to let it out eventually, but the crying was all he could do in this moment. Michael knew he would talk to someone about it when he was ready, and pushing him could make Jeremy too nervous to talk about any of it anymore.

Michael and his hugs couldn’t bring his mom back, Jeremy knew that, and at this point he was sure he wouldn’t want her to come back even if she offered tomorrow. He had Michael, and his moms, and Jeremy was going to work on getting his dad back to his old self.

For now, Michael let Jeremy’s snot and tears cover his old band t-shirt, didn’t point out the way his nails dug into Michael’s back, and rubbed smoothing circled on his back. He needed his best friend there, and Jeremy knew that no matter what Michael was always there in the ways he needed him. He was the one person he could count on to always be there, right by his side

**Author's Note:**

> aha yeah! i'd die for kaity twoplayergame for editing this first part for me to make it readable, love u kaity
> 
> come uhhh idk get pissed at me on tumblr -> @connormurphweed


End file.
